


As though we're meant to be

by yanak324



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hopeful Ending, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is inevitable that she would set her sights on other men throughout the years, even love them perhaps, but why must one of them be someone Klaus considers a friend?</p><p>Or what happens when Caroline, reeling from Stefan's absence, reaches out to the one person who would do anything for her. Post 6.01 TVD. Post 1.22 TO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As though we're meant to be

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes an idea just takes hold and you have to roll with it. Hope you enjoy :) Glad to be writing again!

xxx

_“Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”  
-Khalil Gibran, The Prophet_

xxx

She knows it’s an incredibly selfish thing to even consider. Ever since the idea has taken root, she’s known it would be unfair to actually follow through. 

But now, nearly three months after the fact, Caroline is desperate. Desperate and dare she admit it lonely. Lonely in a way she’s never been before, because even in the worst of times, Mystic Falls had always been there. 

Regardless of what the “evil of the week” happened to be, she could always take refuge in her town, especially after she joined the undead club. After that, even the creepiest of corners in Mystic Falls felt cozy. 

But she doesn’t even have that anymore and with each passing day, Caroline feels like she’s losing composure. Despite popular belief, largely perpetuated by Damon when she was human, Caroline isn’t oblivious and she _does_ know herself, probably better than anyone else. 

So she knows this charade - this endless leafing through pages and pages of archaic text, the bottomless cups of stale diner coffee, and the looks of pity on Alaric’s face – it won’t last long. 

All she needs to refocus, rejuvenate, regain her footing is his voice. Just a few words of encouragement in that calming, peace inducing tone of his and Caroline knows, she just _knows_ she will find the strength to get her goddamn home back, _their_ home back.

So she picks up the phone and punches in the number she knows by heart even though she shouldn’t and hits send, hoping that in trying to repair one bridge, she doesn’t burn another. 

xxx 

The seconds start to feel like hours, cut by the occasional ring that fills her with dreaded anticipation. 

A part of her hopes that he doesn’t pick up. Not that this would stop him from calling back…or worse stop her from calling him again.

The hope is dashed, however, when the ringing gives way to a click, a breath, a moment of hesitation and then…

The way he says her name still sends licks of fire curling through her every limb. 

_Caroline._

It takes her a serious amount of will power not to revert back to that day, the smell of sweat and dead leaves mixing thickly in the air as he hoisted her against the tree…delicate skin breaking against the bark but hell if she cared…

That was the only moment in her life thus far that she had felt complete abandon.

She wouldn’t have cared if the world was falling apart around them, if the apocalypse itself had arrived, as long as he kept her pressed against him, wrapped around him…filled to the brim with his scent, his skin, his _everything_ …

That feeling is exactly what keeps her from succumbing to him completely. 

He is freedom personified and she still wants and needs her feet on the ground…she needs stability. 

She needs Stefan. 

And that’s precisely why she is able to stay in the present, remain focused. 

“Klaus, I need your help.” 

xxx

They agree to meet at a bar somewhere outside Savannah. Even before Klaus has a chance to smell the stale beer and urine inside the fine establishment, he asks himself the same question he’s been pondering since yesterday afternoon. 

_Why the bloody hell did he pick up?_

He is a prisoner in his own city, crippled by the very same enemies who have forced him to be apart from his daughter, but instead of plotting their demise, he’s in the middle of bloody nowhere in the Bible Belt. Not even a hint of desire to drain a single soul in this pathetic place. 

Sadly, though, these are the very same reasons that brought him here. 

He’d even consulted Elijah, hoping his brother would find this tangent meaningless and foolish – yet another distraction.

But once Elijah had heard her name, a name of a woman he’d never even officially met, he immediately decided that it won’t be a bad idea for Klaus to “take a break from all this madness.”

Klaus swallowed back a measure of annoyance, realizing Elijah wouldn’t be his moral compass on this and turned back to his scotch – the only confidant of his that Caroline hadn’t bloody bewitched. 

But the nerve of that girl…no, woman, he immediately corrects himself, mind wandering back to the last time he saw her. 

She’d definitely been a woman then…all curves, golden curls, and seductive eyes, pale skin flushed in all the right places. 

He’d forgotten until then how much of a force she is, hadn’t understood his obsession entirely until she’d unraveled in his arms. 

In hindsight, it was a good idea to promise to never see each other again… a promise initiated by her if he isn’t mistaken. _So why did she bloody call?_

And why in the bloody hell did he pick up?

Because pride is their mutual crutch and Klaus knows what it would take for him to contact her again…and vice versa. Thus, he slid willingly down the rabbit hole for her.

And really, it was never up for debate whether he’d do her bidding, especially after she told him what happened. 

He’d always considered the younger Salvatore to be the smarter of the two brothers but now that ironically the comparison was obsolete, Stefan was acting particularly idiotically. 

What a fool. 

To isolate oneself when in grief is the single greatest disservice one could to himself…at least according to Elijah. 

Personally, Klaus just can’t comprehend how in a million years, Stefan could leave her behind.

Maybe he should ask his fellow mate how he did it for his own purposes, because lord knows if Caroline spent half as much time pursuing him as she has Stefan, Klaus would never let her go.

But perhaps that is the crux of it…the heart covets what it cannot have. 

Or…Klaus has just spent too much time around his lovesick siblings to have an objective read on the situation.

Either way, by the end of this, Stefan Salvatore would be on his way back to Virginia, back to the woman who’d bewitched nearly the whole of them pathetic lot. 

xxx 

It’s not difficult to spot Stefan – his is the only pair of eyes that doesn’t immediately turn to Klaus when he steps into the darkened bar. 

Mixed in with the putrid scent of all that is expected from a place like this is blood and Klaus considers taking a brief interlude to quench his never ceasing thirst.

One look at the patrons, however, and he decides he’d rather numb his cravings with whatever cheap single malt they drink in places like this, rather than risk catching whatever these unhygienic mortals have coursing through their blood. 

He may be weakened but he still has standards. 

The smell is starting to bother him though and he’s suddenly more annoyed than ever. 

Stefan hasn’t even acknowledged his presence and since Klaus considers that he’s doing his old acquaintance a favor by being so cordial, his irritation bubbles to the surface. He doesn’t suppress his growl as he makes purposeful strides towards the far end of the bar where Stefan has decided to drown his sorrows. 

Just as he thinks the younger Salvatore has officially gone off the deep end, what with his lack of greeting, Stefan turns in his direction and slides a shot of something auburn towards him.

Klaus is reluctant but picks up the glass while Stefan raises his. They lock eyes in mid-salute – a mutual understanding passes between them. 

Klaus exhales before taking the shot. 

This is going to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. 

But he’s always up for a challenge. 

xxx 

“Thanks for coming to me.” Stefan finally says by way of a true greeting and Klaus takes that as his in, sliding onto the neighboring barstool and signaling the bartender for a proper drink. 

“No worries, mate. I figured you couldn’t take too much time away from your high profile job at Bob’s automotive shop.” 

Stefan doesn’t take the bait so Klaus keeps going. 

“I mean it’s not like I have anything to do. No enemies to seek out, no city to rebuild.” 

He pauses for dramatic affect; somewhere out there Damon Salvatore must be getting a kick out of the way Klaus taunts his brother. 

“No, I’d rather be here, in the middle of bloody nowhere instead of trying to find a way to reunite with my daughter.” 

Something like guilt or shame flashes across Stefan’s face and Klaus knows he’s got him. 

The Salvatores’ greatest weakness, aside from their romantic entanglements with Ms. Gilbert, has always been their inability to conceal their emotions.

With Damon, it just happened to be rage the majority of the time. 

With Stefan, it was always something softer. That’s why Klaus had so much fun breaking him down into the Ripper back in the 20s. 

The fall from grace is far lengthier for angels than for the flawed…Klaus would know. 

“I get it, okay?” Stefan’s voice snaps Klaus back into focus. A drink is placed in front of him, and he takes a sip while giving Stefan a true onceover.

He instantly feels bad for the guy…well as bad as he can feel for anyone given the murderous rage he’s been feeling lately. But regardless, it’s clear the old champ is having a rough go at it. 

Grieving on your own will do that to you, Klaus notes silently, but says nothing, waiting for Stefan to make his move, decide which way this is going to go. 

They’re at the fork in the road. Klaus hopes the Salvatore brother chooses wisely. 

“I’m sorry about your daughter.” 

Not wisely enough. Foolish lad. 

This way is a dead-end. 

“That’s not what I’m here for. Off the table.” Klaus commends himself for controlling his desire to smash the shot glass against the side of Stefan’s face. 

It’s been decades since he’s been so overcome with impulse to hurt the other vampire, so he gives him a free pass…but just one. 

Choose again, Salvatore, and choose more judiciously this time. 

“I know it must have taken a lot for you to answer her call, let alone come here, so thank you. I appreciate it.” 

This time, Klaus doesn’t reign in his emotions as effectively and the shot glass splinters in his hand. Instead of giving into the urge to cause Stefan maximum pain and discomfort, he pauses and thinks about this man’s audacity. 

“What is it with you bloody lot?” He growls out, tone betraying a genuine sense of curiosity. 

“Is there something in the blood in that godforsaken town that makes you all simultaneously full of guile _and_ sheer stupidity?” 

Stefan raises his eyebrow in question; clearly not following Klaus’ train of thought and the latter can’t blame him. Klaus is mystified, utterly mystified and completely on the outside looking in.

He instantly realizes that it’s not Caroline who has the ultimate bewitching powers. 

“What is it with you and that stupid little town? It’s caused you nothing but pain and misery and yet you let it guide your existence. You circle its’ orbit like little newborn lambs waiting to suckle their mother’s teat yet unaware that they’re headed to the slaughter?” 

At this point, Klaus isn’t sure if he’s on the brink of inebriation or simply entering delirium from his weakened state but the rhetorical question makes sense to him. By the look on Stefan’s face, it it’s starting to make sense to him as well…not that Klaus intends to make this any easier on him because of that. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Klaus. We’re nowhere near Mystic Falls.” 

He even gestures around dramatically for effect but Klaus knows it’s all a farce, so he waits a moment. Perhaps third time is a charm and Stefan will finally choose wisely. 

“Regardless, you of all people should know the kind of affect home has on people like us. You can’t blame some of us for trying.” 

And there it is. 

If Klaus had any affinity for the game of darts, he’d say he hit the bulls’ eye just now. 

Stefan seems to realize he’s fallen into a trap and takes another pull from his beer.

“Some of you, huh?” Klaus lets that sit for a second, before playing his last card, “like Caroline?”

When Stefan looks at him out of the corner of his eye, Klaus detects a hint of regret but overall the younger vampire does a pretty good job affecting an air of calm and nonchalance. 

An unexpected but not unwelcome thrill ignites Klaus’ most feral instincts, culminating in a somewhat predatory smirk. 

So this is how Stefan wants to play it…well game on. 

It’s been a while since Klaus has had the pleasure of rattling someone’s bones, yanking someone’s chain or whatever the expression is. Call it sadistic and maybe a little insane but Klaus justifies it. 

Stefan clearly needs a good verbal (or otherwise) berating and without Damon around, there’s no one else that can exude any sort of influence on him. So now that he’s here and he’s committed, Klaus decides that it’s up to him to set the younger Salvatore straight. 

That and having now seen him in person, Klaus can confirm that Stefan is fighting his desire to return home, most likely because he misses Caroline just as much as she misses him. 

And why shouldn’t he? How could he _not?_

Those cornflower blue eyes, so vibrant and full of life, that smile, equal parts innocent and beguiling. But more importantly that loyalty, that desire for human connection, unconditional and unrepentant, and so very much yearning…

A burst of sudden possessiveness shakes Klaus to the core as he confronts yet again that he is not the object of Caroline’s yearning. Jealousy coils around his undead heart like a poisonous snake. It is inevitable that she would set her sights on other men throughout the years, even love them perhaps, but why must one of them be someone Klaus considers a friend?

And suddenly it is he who is torn, standing at a crossroads, debating which route to take. 

He could subvert and manipulate as he always does, convince Stefan to return home without making him address his feelings, which given his defensive stance, Stefan himself may not yet be ready to confront, or…

And as he thinks through the alternative, Klaus scowls, because he knows as much as his nature leans him to the left, he will go right. Otherwise he would be deceiving not only himself and Stefan but also _her_ ; disappointing her once more without her even realizing it. 

Except _he_ would know about it. 

He would know that he didn’t do right by her. As much as he’d like to believe that he can get away with it, Klaus knows that in his present state, adding another layer of guilt is not the wisest action. It certainly wasn’t his intention in coming here. 

So while the prospect of taunting Stefan doesn’t present the same appeal as it did a few minutes ago, Klaus resigns himself to his original plan. 

Signaling the bartender for another scotch, Klaus finally acknowledges his drinking partner and notices a slightly more confident stance there. This only fuels his amusement, especially when Stefan interrupts his thoughts. 

“If you’re brainstorming ways to get me back to Virginia with minimal force, just go ahead and snap my neck already. I know why you’re here, Klaus-…”

He times his interruption beautifully – also to avoid Stefan’s tone getting on his nerves. 

“Actually, I was simply reminiscing on the last time I was in Mystic Falls…” 

His voice trails off as he fixes Stefan with his signature smirk and reaches for the replenished scotch.

The other man doesn’t say anything but his jaw sets ever so slightly and his grip on the beer bottle tightens as realization dawns….

The fact that Caroline told Stefan about their brief dalliance is a foregone conclusion. 

A very self-indulgent but foregone conclusion. 

He can’t help the pride that swells his ancient heart at the thought of someone else knowing that Caroline had finally given into him, even if for a few hours.

That satisfaction quickly gives way to warmth, however, and then to inevitable longing, which only makes Klaus more eager to fuel the fire, just to see how much it would actually take to rattle the composed Salvatore. 

He takes a leisurely sip before throwing his remaining dart. 

“You know it’s probably good that I can no longer come back there. I doubt I could stroll through the woods as I used to without getting sidetracked by such sinful memories.” 

He’s good at this, taunting and baiting are his forte, but the splinter of glass still comes as a shock as does the full power of Stefan’s glare. 

Klaus conceals his surprise behind a wicked smile – atta boy, he thinks proudly to himself, show how you really feel. 

It’s the first time in their exchange that he can spot the lingering remnants of what Stefan is truly capable of, the spark inside him that is just waiting for a match to ignite. 

It’s this fire, hidden behind a century and a half of practiced composure that made Stefan the perfect target in the 20s. It is also why Klaus instantly felt drawn to him when they first met. 

A brother he never knew he needed. 

A part of Klaus, a very small, almost infinitesimal part, thus, feels guilty for goading Stefan so, but it’s overridden by irritation. 

Stefan doesn’t get to simply walk away because he’s grieving. Klaus knows all about the need to break away when one is hurt, but unfortunately one does not get to do what he wants when there are people counting on him.

Especially when it’s Caroline. Stefan does not get to turn his back on her. 

So if what he needs is to feel a little jealousy, a little protectiveness over the blonde then Klaus is more than happy to provide the match to light that particular spark. 

Plus, it’s good to see the other man exhibiting some emotion rather than continuing to brood into his whiskey. 

“I don’t think Caroline would appreciate you talking about her like that.” Stefan finally breaks the silence and Klaus has the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Not any more than she would appreciate how you’re currently acting, mate.” He supplies, his tone hinting at his frustration. 

“But judging by your reaction to my innocuous comment,” Klaus gestures to the shards of glass that used to be the beer bottle, “it seems that you’re the one who doesn’t appreciate my trip down memory lane.” 

He takes another sip of scotch then, aware that Stefan wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot quite like this.

It was clear from the beginning that the other vampire had been bracing for a physical altercation – but as much as Klaus has been itching for a good fight, he is preserving his strength for a different, greater, more important battle.

Plus there is always the chance that he’d have Caroline to contend with if he damaged as much as a hair on Stefan’s head. 

The thought leaves a bitter taste as he remembers once again the power this woman holds over him. Subsequently, he grows more impatient. 

He still simply cannot understand how the younger Salvatore was able to walk away and _stay_ away from Caroline.

Though judging by the somewhat befuddled expression on Stefan’s face, perhaps he hadn’t really questioned that before, had not channeled all his brooding towards identifying why Caroline refused to give up on him. 

The fool chose to stew in his misery instead. 

“I don’t appreciate you talking about my friend like that.” Stefan clarifies and Klaus can’t help quirking an eyebrow. 

“Friend? Really?”

He pauses then, leaving those two words suspended between them, hoping that Stefan won’t make him spell it out. 

But all he does is shrug in response. Although Klaus knows it’s all an act, a poorly constructed façade to hide how Stefan truly feels, it still annoys him. 

“You know, Stefan, in all the years I’ve known you, I have never taken you for a fool, perhaps misguided at times, but never a fool.” Klaus lets that simmer, signaling the bartender for yet another drink.

He really should compel the whole bloody bottle for himself. 

A few more beats of silence. 

Klaus counts the number of heartbeats in the vicinity. Thirty-six.

“What do you want from me, Klaus?” 

The inquiry, tinged with defeat, is not what Klaus prefers to hear but at least it’s a step closer to submission…to compromise. 

“It’s not about what I want, mate.” He says cryptically instead, barely acknowledging the bartender as he refills the glass and huffs in annoyance as he finally notices the mess Stefan created. 

Stefan, on the other hand, looks apologetically at the bartender and waits for the man to walk away before facing Klaus with resignation.

“I can’t be there for her when I’m like this.” 

His tone is borderline pathetic and if Klaus hadn’t been there himself once, he would have actually rolled his eyes at the 165 year old immortal who was letting the fear of a teenage boy guide his actions. 

But Klaus has been there…has been terrified of not being good enough…for his father…then for his siblings…and now for his daughter. 

Somewhere in between all of that though, he had met a baby vamp that enchanted him mind, body and soul; reminded him that he was in fact capable of good. 

In those rare moments when Caroline showed him how she truly felt about him, Klaus had thought he could conquer the world. The way she smiled at him made him feel like he was worthy, capable of anything. And if she’s willing to bestow even a fraction of that upon Stefan, then who is Klaus to control that? 

That beautiful interlude in the woods was a promise in of itself, a preview to what could be…

Someday, Caroline may show up at his door, but regardless, who is he to deny her the experiences that await her in the interim? 

Who is he to deny _Caroline_ what she wants?

“Then snap out of it, mate.” Klaus exclaims suddenly. 

Stefan looks as if he’s about to argue, but ultimately doesn’t say anything and Klaus is grateful.

He doubts he could sit patiently through the litany of excuses Stefan has undoubtedly prepared for such an occasion. 

He’s not exactly in an understanding mood, and will not be too forgiving if Stefan tries to use Damon’s absence as an excuse for running away. 

“I just wanted to start fresh, you know.” He finally confesses, taking pull from a new beer bottle, “I just figured it would be easier that way for everyone.” 

“Why?” Klaus cuts in right away, unable to contain his frustration, “because you couldn’t save your brother so that means you have nothing to offer anyone else?” 

Klaus says this through somewhat gritted teeth, because this is starting to sound all too familiar. 

Stefan’s attitude seems to mirror Klaus’ own approach to dealing with his failures. A voice, sounding suspiciously like that of _his_ older brother, tells him that he must put a stop to this as quickly as possible. 

“Maybe.” Stefan admits, catching Klaus slightly off guard, but the latter relishes such curveballs. 

After all, this whole exchange would be quite boring if his opponent constantly made predictable moves. 

“She’s too good, too pure, too selfless, too loyal…too constant.” 

A shiver skitters down his back as Stefan’s nearly reverent tone fills the space between them. For the first time since sitting down, Klaus feels his chest constrict in an unpleasant way. 

As if he needed any further confirmation that Caroline’s feelings are not unrequited. 

Swallowing back whatever discomfort he feels, Klaus ventures a glance at Stefan. 

Strikingly, the younger vampire looks like a man on the brink of realization, discovery. 

Klaus shoves his free hand into his jacket pocket to conceal his clenched fist as he attempts to calm down.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, but then all he sees is Caroline, her hands digging into his shoulders, the delicate column of her neck exposed as she writhes on the brink of release. Klaus expects the image to push him over the edge but it has the opposite effect, giving him the footing he needs to ground himself back in the present. 

Remind him of his goal here…recall all the challenges he still has to face before _he_ is ready for _her._

He recognizes that Stefan comes with much less baggage. Begrudgingly, Klaus acknowledges the blond again, even going as far as to set a tentative hand on the other man’s shoulder. 

“She is all of those things, mate.” He agrees wistfully, allowing just a moment of further indulgence.

“But a piece of advice.” 

At this, Stefan looks him square in the eye and the recognition Klaus sees there is a bit unnerving. It’s as if Stefan has finally started to wake up from whatever coma he has been in for the past four months. 

And while Klaus is pleased, because it seems he has accomplished his mission, the dull ache of rejection still lingers. He tries to numb it with a swallow of scotch and a declaration.

“The way back home is not through reverence but through redemption.” 

It’s implicit that there in also lies the key to Caroline’s forgiveness (and perhaps her heart). 

“Running away, or ‘starting fresh’ as you put it, is the easier route but the relief is only temporary. Take it from someone who ran for centuries. Eventually you will have to confront everything and I, for one, would not advise you to face your demons alone if you can help it.” 

He drains his glass, and halts the bartender when he approaches with a refill. 

This conversation has taken more of a toll on him than he is willing to admit. Convinced that he made the most compelling argument without resorting to violence or compulsion, Klaus decides that it’s his turn to retreat and process. 

Perhaps feed on a few innocent souls to temper the gnawing ache in his chest. 

It truly is a testament to his increased maturity that his first instinct isn’t to assign blame at Caroline’s feet or even his own for coming here. He is also somewhat astonished by his lack of desire to inflict pain on Stefan, but he doesn’t wait to analyze it.

Instead Klaus gives the younger Salvatore a slightly aggressive pat on the back as he slides off his bar stool. In a valiant effort to show that his feral side hasn’t completely disappeared, he also drains whatever is left of Stefan’s beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. 

“Go home, Stefan. There’s nothing for you in this seedy little corner of the world.” 

And before the other man can do anything, the hybrid vanishes…leaving nothing but an empty stool and a dozen bewildered faces in his wake. 

xxx 

It’s a warm September afternoon, probably one of the few nice days they have left until the sun slinks away, leaving both the ground and the trees barren, ready for winter. 

They’re sitting on a blanket on the main quad…well she’s sitting; Stefan is more lounging, sprawled languidly on his side.

She’s not sure how he can concentrate in that position, but she isn’t complaining because it allows them a proximity that he uses to his advantage. The grimoire he is currently reading is perched against the side of her bent knees and every time he turns the page, his fingers brush her bare skin. 

Her heart skips a beat every time. 

She doesn’t even care that he can probably hear it, because this is the happiest and most content she has been since…well…definitely since before her best friend was swallowed into oblivion and she could no longer set foot into her hometown without asphyxiating. 

Caroline knows that in large part she owes all of this to one person. Not for the first time today, she reaches for her phone and scrolls through her list of contacts, eyes zoning in on the one name that stands out among them all. 

She had called him as soon as Stefan returned, leaving a slew of messages expressing gratitude and the like, but he had never picked up or called back. She never brought it up to Stefan; it was an unspoken agreement to leave the catalyst for his return in the past. 

However, every once in a while, he would pick up on her tells, like when she bites the inside of her cheek or stares off deep in thought, and he would gently squeeze her hand or give her one of his thoughtful smiles. It worked to assuage her guilt but only temporarily. 

Now again, as she feels the kiss of the sun on her cheek and true calm warming her bones, Caroline types yet another _Thank you,_ hitting send before throwing her phone as far away on the blanket from her as possible. As if the distance could actually make her forget about him. 

Stefan doesn’t say anything, but the next time he reaches to turn the page, his fingers linger on her knee. Caroline gives him a brief albeit wan smile in return. 

She’s so deeply consumed by the recurring fear that she crossed the line with Klaus, asked for too much, that she doesn’t even hear her phone ping a moment later. 

But Stefan does and taps her knee. 

“I think you got a text, Care.” He nods towards her phone, and her heart flutters for an entirely different reason. 

Stefan smiles encouragingly and turns back to the grimoire, perhaps to give her some privacy, which Caroline isn’t quite convinced she needs until she unlocks her screen. And then…

It’s like a hummingbird inside her chest as she first reads the text, then glances down at her dress before finally looking up to survey her surroundings. Search for those familiar blue-green orbs and the knee-weakening smirk. But all she sees are crowds of faceless people. 

He’s nowhere in sight. 

She smiles nonetheless…a deep vibrant smile, reserved only for him…just in case he’s still there watching her… 

_You’re welcome, Caroline. By the way, that shade of yellow looks quite lovely on you._

xxx 

He returns from Savannah a reinvigorated man…a man with a plan. 

After weeks of strategizing, he, along with Elijah and Hayley, manage to successfully execute revenge against the Guerrera pack.

The next part of the long-term goal to restore peace in New Orleans requires a few more loyal followers than what they have in the bayous. Thus, when it comes down to the division of tasks, Klaus eagerly volunteers to venture up North to recruit a few more packs who favor the colder climates of New England. 

He can no more resist making a detour in Virginia than he could have ignored Caroline’s call all those weeks ago. Now as he leans against one of the big pines on the quad, seeing her for the first time in nearly a year, albeit from a distance, Klaus is glad he did.

She looks beautiful…breathtaking…less so because of what she wears and more so because of the happiness that radiates off her in waves, making her glow. 

The knowledge that he made that happen allows him to ignore Stefan’s lingering touch on her skin. 

It imbues him with strength and confidence he hasn’t had since he had to part with his daughter. 

He understands now that he needed this, needed her in this exact moment. The pivotal point at which he desperately needed to be reminded of his purpose, the reason he was fighting for his home: for his siblings, the mother of his child, his daughter…

And one day, perhaps, for her…

Klaus nearly laughs at the irony that yet again Caroline managed to save him without even realizing it, without ever knowing the renewed sense of purpose she has given him. 

Stefan’s words seem appropriate now more than ever. 

_Too selfless_ indeed. 

And he can’t stop staring. It’s only when Caroline begins to look in his direction that Klaus wills himself to move. 

He catches just a glimpse of recognition in her determined gaze as she scans the quad looking for him, but by the time her eyes land on the spot by the tree, he is already but a gust of wind and a rustle of leaves.

Her smile though, lingers in his mind’s eye, long after he has gone…


End file.
